He was a big dude, built like a pro wrestler and tall enough to have to duck his head whenever he walked through a damn door. He was my father’s pride and joy, the next Volkov to take the throne and continue our legacy. He had the entire world at his fingertips. Didn’t hurt that he was good-looking, either, and he damn well knew it. His black hair was cut short and styled neatly. His chiseled jaw was always a winner with the ladies, as well as his piercing, bright blue eyes. Aleksandr walked in like he owned the damn place and stopped right in front of me.
Oh so I'm obsessed w her brother got it
